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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28216083">Harmony of Spheres</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Khadgarfield/pseuds/Khadgarfield'>Khadgarfield</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Warcraft - All Media Types, World of Warcraft</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Anal Sex, M/M, Oral Sex, Religion, Religious Imagery &amp; Symbolism, Ritual Sex, Thats right babes u read the ship tag</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 14:23:23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,447</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28216083</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Khadgarfield/pseuds/Khadgarfield</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Turalyon has been feeling a little disconnected from the light lately. Luckily, there's a very special very powerful ritual that can be done to fix that problem.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Turalyon/Anduin Wrynn</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>44</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Harmony of Spheres</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I swiped this concept ages and ages ago from a little group chit chat i was having. it had religious themes so naturally, i had to put my filthy little hands all over it.</p><p>Thank u to Jel, Fel, and trollsweat for the inspiration, as ever.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Turalyon’s footsteps, usually silent, echoed loudly against the cold marble floor. The sound, he supposed, was magnified by the vaulted ceiling, made tremendous by the ancient, geometric magic of the spaces between the walls. Ahead of him, Anduin padded in soft leather boots. His body was smaller in civilian clothing than it looked when clad in bright armour, yet somehow, he seemed even more commanding. As the sun set outside the city, and cast shafts of honeyed light into the building, his silhouette was limned in burnished gold. It was as though his very skin was glowing.</p><p>“You have no doubt you are willing to oblige me?” Turalyon asked.</p><p>“Of course I want to oblige you.” The young King spoke with a clear, glittering tone. His voice, exaggerated by the lofty eaves of the Cathedral, was musical. “I am in no position to argue with the will of the Light.”</p><p>This was a half-truth, if not an outright lie. If anyone was in the position to argue the will of the light, it was him. Anduin had the favour of the Na’ru in his blood, he had healing hands, and scars on his torso, and pensive, sky blue eyes. He was younger than Turalyon, but he was so much wiser, too. He knew sacraments that even a paladin of Turalyon’s status could not hope to comprehend. This particular sacrement, though, was well known - albeit it was rarely practiced anymore. It was the ritual that was often whispered about, but rarely seen, and he knew the theology, the apologetics, and the process itself inside and out. So did <em>everyone. </em>No one really believed the light called people to do it any more.</p><p>Right?</p><p>Turalyon, however, had absolutely been called to do this, by the waning light that threaded through his spirit, and the primal instinct in his core. This would be an act of devotion, he had told himself. An act of devotion, and nothing else. His simple heart still felt shame, though, to admit that he even needed it in the first place. There was a degree of guilt associated with what would need to be done - it settled like the cobwebs that lingered deep in the belfries and in the crevasses above church arches. The nervous flutter in his guts could not be banished, no matter how hard he tried, and oh, Turalyon had absolutely tries.</p><p>It really was a privilege, he reminded himself, to be extended the opportunity of this rite. Indeed, he <em>did</em> feel privileged, under all the couching of mortal concern, not least because of who it was who would serve him. Of all the saints with holy hands, Turalyon thought that this particular priest was the one who had proven most resonant. If there was a soul alive who could reach into the firmament and realign the stars, it was the very same soul who balanced the affairs of Azeroth with all his unearthly grace, and if there was a soul that could do all of those things then Turalyon knew it needed to be that one who would realign him.</p><p>Anduin led him past the altar, through a door at the back of the chancel, and the room they now found themselves in was nothing more than a small sacristy devoid of anything besides a disused wooden altar and a narrow, stained glass window at the back. Anduin secured the door behind them, driving the iron lockbar home with a gentle click. Turalyon watched him peel off his gloves, drinking in the way his hair shone like golden grass rippling on the crest of a hill. Anyone with eyes could see that the young King was vibrant with beauty, of persuasion both ethereal and mundane. From the bow of his lips to the upturned tip of his nose, he was the most attractive man Turalyon had ever laid eyes on and it was a wonder that the entire world did not drop prostrate themselves before him, as Turalyon realised he already ached to.</p><p>Anduin turned his eyes upwards, setting his gloves down on a low table beside the door, and began unlacing the front of his shirt with elegant fingers.</p><p>“You need to undress too,” He said, and his voice was sweet, and warm, and inviting. Turalyon fumbled at his own clothing, casting off his pauldrons and his belt and dropping them in a heap in the corner. By the time he was down to his undergarments, Anduin was moving toward him. his bare shoulders and chest were etched with a lace of pale scars. He wore them just as beautifully as he wore his armour.</p><p>“Knees,” He instructed, and Turalyon did what he was told. Anduin’s hand skated over the crown of his head, fingertips brushing his scalp and sending sweet, hot shivers down his spine. Turalyon became very suddenly aware of how his pulse was echoing in his ears, of the distant humming sound he thought he could hear beneath the tide of life pulling through him like ripples in a pond. Anduin invited him wordlessly, to worship at the shrine of flesh at his belly, and Turalyon’s breath against his navel composed a hymn that even he didn’t fully understand. The King quivered beneath his lips, a surprised giggle spilling from his chest when confronted with the earnestness Turalyon was showing. Perhaps he hadn’t known, (and how could he have, really,) how desperate Turalyon was to be righted.</p><p>Oh yes. He was <em>desperate </em>to be righted.</p><p>Turalyon’s fingers curled in the waistband of Anduin’s smallclothes, he licked at his thighs like a starved creature drinks from a flowing stream. From above, Turalyon heard a soft moan of pleasure, and heartened he took the Anduin’s soft cock into his mouth. He had never felt this before, the sensation of a man hardening against his tongue, but again those hands came to his head and this time, those fingers tied into his hair tightly. Turalyon could feel heat plunging to the cradle of his pelvis. The little noises Anduin made sent soft tingles cascading over the flesh on his back.</p><p>The King’s left hand fumbled as he groped for Turalyon’s face. He pulled him off his length, and forced Turalyon to turn his eyes upwards to regard him again. His rigid cock pressed against Turalyon’s cheek, and it was obvious from the flush in his lips that he was ignited by the act. They both were.</p><p>“Call on the light now,” he insisted, and his voice was husky. Aroused. Turalyon, of course, did just that, not hesitating this time like he had been, lately. The fear that his connection might fail did not occur to him, even though it had been a thought that cluttered his mind for months on end. The only response he received, though, was a sharpening of that low vibration hum echoing inside his skull. His connection to the holy was so weak it was despairable, his faith waning like a tide in the shadow of the moons. He had spent far too long trying to work out what had happened, and found himself consistently unsuccessful, but much to his relief he found that in this moment right now it really didn’t matter. It didn’t matter because Anduin Wrynn could fix it. He could fix anything, and as Turalyon believed as much with all he was.</p><p>The vibration grew louder, spreading over his skin, as he sensed the young man reaching out of himself as well, forging his own connection with the hallowed and being met with a sudden infusion of magic so magnificent that it made the very air tingle. Light passed in currents over his skin, and when he stepped back to strip off his underpants, Anduin was almost blinding.</p><p>Every inch of him really was perfection, his proportions exquisite expressions of the divine. His waist and thighs and calves arced into one another in breathless harmony, and though his cock was heavy with the implication of human biology the aura he emitted was androgenous and unlimited, and stirred arousal that was deeper than physical. Turalyon shuffled closer to him, and the vibrational hum in the air intensified further still. The planet beneath his knees felt like it is shifting into conjunction with something beyond his comprehension, and when Anduin’s hand rested against his face they became two astral bodies, united as one.</p><p>Anduin raised him to his feet, and closed the gap between them. His arms were slim and beautiful as they coiled around his neck, and as Turalyon felt a warm tongue slipping against his own he sensed their heartbeats falling into sync. The light Anduin was radiating set fire to his own, and the feeling reminded him of the swooping echo of a symphony, billowing in all the corners of the cosmos. His heart reeled in exaltation, and for a moment, it was bliss. Better than bliss.</p><p>
  <em>Ecstasy.</em>
</p><p>Anduin pushed him back gently, guiding him toward the altar at the far end of the room. The wooden edge was hard against the curve of his spine, and he reclined against it as easily as he drew his next breath. Anduin pushed his legs apart, caressed the tender planes along the insides of his thighs, and Turalyon had to calm himself and swallow a lump in his throat.</p><p>Turalyon had been afraid of this part, more than anything else. Somehow though, he barely even thought of it, as Anduin broke him open with two fingers and the help of a light, clean oil. It was a strange anointment, but still good, and Turalyon yielded to him without resistance. He had no way to tell if it was because the touch was delectable, or because it was aided by the light that spilled into him and licked at his marrow – He simply surrendered to the axis of pressure deep in his hips, pierced through by the light like a zealot, pierced by an arrow.</p><p>Anduin exhaled shakily, dropping his head forward so his halo of pale golden hair fell forwards against the edges of his cheeks. He shifted his hand, and replaced his fingers with the blunt head of his cock. The press of it was so much firmer than his fingers, so much thicker, and Turalyon’s back arched – the last ghost of his resistance – as the young man came to rest inside him with a thrust and a trembling sigh. With one hand, Anduin gripped one of Turalyon’s thighs. With the other, he reached forward to stroke the line of his throat.  </p><p>“Concentrate,” he breathed, “The light.”</p><p>Yes, the light. The light which blinded Turalyon for a moment, the light which warmed his chest as Anduin’s eyes fluttered closed and he tentatively (too tentatively) rocked his hips. Turalyon’s whole body burst into blooming ecstasy. A wave of euphoria throbbed through him, and his awareness of the world beyond their edges dissolved to nothingness. For a brief time, there was naught but the infinite before him, naught but his bared and longing soul, and Turalyon was prone in exaltation to the holiest of things and stretching onwards without ending. He wasn’t even sure if he was breathing, or if he was simply drifting, untethered. The only thing he could feel was the sweet slide of that cock against a sacred place within him, and the warm breath of Anduin’s mouth pushed to his neck.</p><p>It was a thaumaturgists kiss, one that felt like the throb of a singular perfect note against his flesh, and Turalyon knew it was the sound of the note from which the universe was spoken into form. It also happened to contain a locution entirely his own.</p><p>The private revelation began to hum in his atoms, echoing even in the darkest reaches of his heart and mind. It was as though everything around him was falling back into order, back into the celestial edifice of those who came before all things and breathed the very light into being. Turalyon felt a flicker of something more profound than radiance, more heavenly than even Anduin Wrynn, that made him quiver like the pair of scales that gauged the weight of a human soul.</p><p>Anduin was beginning to build pace, his breathing coming in shorter, snatched intervals, and heating the side of Turalyon’s exposed throat. Turalyon, however, didn’t even notice, too lost in the resonance of orbits and gravity and fragments of stars that died and compounded and ignited again in endless cycles of harmonic reinvention.</p><p>Turalyon came with a cry that arced in the air, and then shattered with a reverent shudder far too suddenly. If felt like a bell, calling for mass, or a tuning fork, hitting the right note. It reverberated with pleasure, though, long after the sound of being struck had grown too faint for human ears.</p><p>Anduin groaned softly, hesitating as though he found himself torn between the end of his duty, and the biological drive to complete their coupling. Turalyon was far too lost to notice or care what he did, conscious only of the distant, floating sensation that cradled him. The heat of a most revered presence filled him convinced him he could stay here like this forever, and want for nothing ever again.</p><p>Eventually, though, the King’s virtue won out. He sucked in a deep breath and extracted himself, allowing a few moments to regain composure before he tucked his length away and began to tidy his clothes. Turalyon was loosing grasp on that distant, transcendent feeling, and found it being replaced by a dense, comforting sense of warmth. Not just the warmth from his own cum, mind, which had pooled in his navel and was beginning to drip over his sides.</p><p>“Your majesty,” He breathed. Anduin, who still burned brighter than any star in the night sky, gave him a smile, and reached out a hand to brush his fingers against the bridge of Turalyon’s nose. His rigid cock was still clearly visible, curved against his belly beneath his clothes.  </p><p>“Consider yourself enlightened,” The king whispered. “and blessed.”</p><p>Such simple, human words hardly did justice to the sense of rightness that filled him in the wake of communion. Such simple, human concepts as boundaries, between himself and between all other things, served only to obstruct the new understanding he had of the energy that flowed like an eternal river through the universe. He could hear it in his heartbeat, and in the far-away symphony of distant systems of planets and stars. The crescendoing, transcendent, unconceivable beauty of creation and of him, an emanation of the most divine. </p><p>Anduin kissed him, cradling his cheeks, and Turalyon saw nothing but the universe unfolding before him.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>im falling asleep on my keybpard but i will post this now maybe edit tomorrow or something theres only like six people who are gonna read this and i know exactly who they are lmao. </p><p>xoxo your friend garf.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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